


A Distinguished Precipice

by calapine



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:41:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23542552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calapine/pseuds/calapine
Summary: These are things that didn't happen.
Relationships: Ninth Doctor & Rose Tyler
Kudos: 1





	A Distinguished Precipice

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted in 2005. (I was trying to be clever with this; with fifteen years hindsight, some of it works? A bit? Maybe?)

1.

Rose.

Withers.

The broken girl in her broken world turns away from him.

Stopping alien invasions doesn’t matter when your Mum is dead, shot by a plastic mockery of a bride.

She turns and runs, and he knows that nothing he can say will bring her back.

He wishes that...

2.

...he does not commit genocide. He knows what he must do, but he steps away.

Seconds tick into minutes. There is no turning back now. They must keep fighting.

He orders scatterings to the outer galaxies and the forgotten times. They evacuate the homeworld hours (years? centuries? seconds?) before it is eliminated. Time-lines unravel, and he acts quickly to knit them back together. Patchwork. Nothing is what it was before.

There are no more armies, but interlinked cells; a scattered lattice spread thinly, fragile, through the time-lines.

Only he knows the whole shape of it.

Only he knows that there is no hope only

3.

Obedience, it flows through his mind like a river of acid, burning away all impure thoughts. Hate feeds his will and it is strong and vibrant; he is alive with a vivid energy that thrills him.

He remembers limbs rotting and flesh falling away and bones cracked and torn from his body, regenerating, and... changing. But it was not as he had changed before.

Everything is so much simpler now.

He will survive.  
He will obey.  
He will  
Exterminate.

2.

No one could understand. This is his burden to carry.

Exile is meaningless now, but his people do it anyway. They'd never allowed practicalities to get in the way of ceremony. They let him choose (Earth, of course), because he will be able to help there.

He will save them.  
Once.  
Twice.

He has saved them often (surely that’s worth a little forgiveness?) but they are only linear. And so is he, now. There are other (better) soldiers that need his beloved ship.

Perhaps he will be erased. Perhaps it will be the bolt of a Dalek gun between his hearts. Perhaps he should not contemplate the future so often.

He visits old friends and takes comfort in all the years they have had since they left him. Occasionally UNIT contacts him and he helps as best he can, but makes it clear that he’d rather not interfere.

(“Leave me alone!”)

In return, he is allowed to use their equipment, but he can detect no familiar signals in the stars.

One day, the skies darken with a thousand, thousand ships and he goes inside to make a pot of tea. He is particularly generous with the sugar when he pours his cup.

Even if he were not on Earth, he knows this world wouldn't have been spared. This knowledge does nothing to ease his guilt.

When they come for him, he stands steady. His eyes are open and his expression defiant. He knows that there are more things in Heaven and Earth...

...but he doesn’t expect to scream.

And so the Daleks inherit the universe.

1.

Before she feld, his hand had slipped into hers.

But just once, and it did not feel right. Her skin had been slippy with blood and she was too tired to run.

This will not be the last invasion that this world sees.

And he will not be here to see the next one: its price will be humanity’s soul.

There are still quiet places out there.

He goes to look for them.


End file.
